


An Education

by WaterlilyRose



Category: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears (2020), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Miss Fisher teaches Jack a lot of different things, Resolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterlilyRose/pseuds/WaterlilyRose
Summary: Miss Fisher teaches Jack some important lessons.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my latest fandom and a little exercise to get me to improve my smut writing. If you could recommend certain 'lessons' Miss Fisher could teach Jack, I'd be very grateful.

Jack Robinson had lived a full and eventful life. Life as a Detective Inspector with the Victorian Constabulary meant he had seen all variety of things; some quite frankly terrible. He’d been a married man (an unsuccessful marriage but all the same). And he’d seen war… though he would have preferred that event had never taken place.

But, once again, he had never quite anticipated the havoc a certain Miss Phryne Fisher would reek on his orderly life.

And oh was that havoc ever sweet.

He had never sampled more than standard love making with Rosie. Their purpose was to try and get her pregnant and any pleasure that came from it was merely a happy accident. So it was just straight forward missionary whenever they attempted to make a child. Satisfying but hardly earth-shattering. Then again, Jack had the feeling that anything more adventurous being suggested would have led to a scandalized gasp and maybe a stern talking to from his father-in-law.

So when Phryne took him into her bed for the first time, he was in for quite the education.

Firstly, no child was expected or indeed welcome to be conceived. Miss Fisher had her internal device for that. It wasn’t a prospect that shocked or indeed bothered Jack – he knew Phryne’s aversion to babies and her devotion to Jane was merely an unforeseen happen-stance.

Secondly, he was used to a nightdress being kept more or less in place when marital relations took place. Rosie rarely got naked for him. Phryne... well, he had seen her breasts before though this time without feathers and an audience. But her fully naked glory was something he had imagined more times than he would like to admit. Ever since he had seen the canvas of her naked... 

The reality was even more glorious. She was lithe, pert and unashamed. She liked his hands running over her breasts and down her sides. She liked his eyes on her. 

Thirdly, Miss Fisher didn’t do simply missionary.

He was astounded when, in the middle of his thrusts, she let out a growl and flipped him onto his back. He could only stare, half dazed with lust and bafflement, as she undulated her hips in a figure of eight movement and threw her dark head back as though no words could describe her bliss. Jack understood perfectly – he had his cock deep within her as she bounced for Australia upon him and all her glorious nakedness was on display for him to feast his eyes on.

He’d never had relations like this before – so unashamed, so uninhabited, so wonderful. This wasn’t a duty or even a chore; this was carnal, this was bliss, this was… oh, if she did that again, shorter than he would like!

Their bodies were shining with exertion. That was another new experience - he only sweated like this when he was cycling. Yet Phryne didn't seem to mind - instead she ran her hands up and down his chest as though it were oil she wanted to massage into his skin.

When it was over, Phyrne curled up like a cat into his side and sighed happily into his bare chest.

“Is it…” Jack tried not to sound too out of breath “always like that?”

“It is with me, Mr Robinson.”

That sounded delightful to Jack.


	2. Chapter 2

Life as the paramour of Miss Fisher was much the same as it had been as her partner in crime. Crimes continued to be committed; they continued to solve them. The only change was the aftermath contained a lot more than a drink with a lot of eye fucking. Now it involved drink, eye fucking and actual fucking in the parlour when they were sure Mr Butler had gone to bed.

Phryne seemed to get off on the thrill of nearly being caught. In the back of Jack’s car, in the parlour, one time even on Jack’s desk though they had to be deathly quiet. And so many times! It wasn’t unusual for Phyrne to want sex about three times a night. He complied but only after a half an hour break in between – he wasn’t 20 anymore! Yet he flattered himself that Miss Fisher was satisfied with his attentions – he knew her well enough to know that he would have heard about it if she wasn’t.

But he also should have known that Phryne wasn’t going to let him find his feet that easily. Life with her was full of surprises.

They were questioning a witness who was being uncooperative. In fact, ‘uncooperative’ was probably too polite – downright maddening would be a better phrase. The witness had forgotten the fundamental rule of lying which was ‘possess a good memory’. Therefore Jack had been able to pick thirty different holes in the stories Miss Fisher and himself had been given.

Finally he did something he rarely did – he lost his temper. Before the witness could start yet another fanciful tale, Jack brought his fist down on the table and bellowed “Enough!”

Jack rarely shouted but he was tired and stretched thin. He had lost his temper once during the Fabrizi argument and had smacked down a heavy book to gain a hint of silence. Miss Fisher had been present for that too.

With the suspect suitably shocked, Jack walks out of the interrogation room and barks at Collins to take the witness to a cell. He doesn’t have the energy for a discussion.

He enters his office and pours himself a stiff drink. He hears Phryne before he sees her.

“I know that was unprofessional but how many times can we listen to-”

His jacket is caught hold of and he’s spun around to face her. Her cherry red lips are on his in seconds.

Kissing Phryne was always a battle – she did not take supplication easily. It was a never ending battle for dominance. But Jack was so stunned by this turn of events that Phyrne would have won this contest easily. He found one of his hands being taken and guided to the front of her trousers.

“Touch me.” She whispered against his lips.

Jack had a fleeting idea what she meant. He often touched her when they were in bed together. He hadn’t paid too much attention though as Phryne was always very ready and wanted to get to the mindlessly rutting part of their night.

With trembling fingers, he began to unzip the fly of her trousers and undid the button. Phryne took his hand and slid it into her silky undergarment. He found her wet and swollen.

Phryne gave a muffled moan of delight as he ran his fingers up and down her womanhood.

Jack knew enough about female anatomy to know that he needed to pay attention to the clitoris. So he slowly began to manipulate the flesh at the front of her sex. And knowing that Phryne liked him to be adventurous, he slid his ring finger inside her.

There were few things that made Jack feel like a man like Miss Fisher in the throes of ecstasy. Yet she was being rather obvious so without preamble he clamped his free hand over her mouth.

He half expected Phryne to give a moan of displeasure or even kick him. Instead she dutifully quietened down against his hand and let her eyes close as he continued to pay attention to her sex.

The shuddering finale of his fingering came when a new wetness coated his fingers and Miss Fisher went nearly boneless in his embrace. Hardly believing what they had done, he withdrew his hand from the trousers of Miss Fisher.

“You should lose your temper more often.” Miss Fisher purred in his ear.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was pondering another case when he got his next lesson from Miss Fisher. They were in her parlour drinking whiskey and trying to reason out the motive for a young débutante's death.

After nearly fifteen minutes of reasoning the absense of the young woman’s jewels, Jack was getting a raging headache.

“You seem tense Jack.” Miss Fisher mused sympathetically.

“Nothing that the right culprit wouldn’t solve.” He mused tiredly.

“You know, a massage would help with that.”

Jack couldn’t imagine Phryne Fisher doing something so domestic as rubbing his shoulders so raised a speculative eyebrow. “I doubt that very much, Miss Fisher.”

“Believe me, I think you would find it… beneficial.”

She got out of her seat and moved towards him in that graceful way that reminded him a little of a cat. She sat down beside him on the chaise and took his whiskey glass from his hand. Why was she looking at him so… hungrily?

“My shoulders are in good working order, thank- Oh!”

Because Miss Fisher was rubbing him… down there.

Looking around wildly at the parlour door to check it was closed, his worry about Mr. Butler flew away like a messaging bird as she continued her attentions through his trousers. He had been half hard all night (he couldn’t help it when he was around her) and it was now growing to be a strain on his flies. Which she was currently undoing.

“Phryne!” He gasped as she snuck her hand into his briefs. “Someone could...”

“No-one is coming. Mr. Butler has gone to bed and Dot is out with Hugh. Just relax. And enjoy.”

And so Jack let his head loll back and gave himself over to the sensations. He hadn’t done this to himself in a while but he had spent many a night imagining Miss Fisher in various different ways. He used to feel disgust with himself for such thoughts as a married man but Rosie never inspired him like Phryne did. No one ever would.

She had his cock in her hand and was pumping it with a sure grip and speed. To feel a foreign hand around him made the experience all the better than when he had done it alone at night in the dark. Her lips were kissing a trail down his neck and no doubt leaving lipstick all over the collar of his best shirt. He found he didn’t care much.

His pleasure was heightened tenfold when she began to whisper all the wonderful filthy things she wanted to do to him. He knew he should be shocked and scandalised. Instead he let out a loud cry as he exploded over her hand and onto his chest. It left a sticky mess that he would not be able to disguise.

Phyrne kissed his jaw. “You seem less tense now, Jack.” She mused lightly.

Jack could only nod his agreement. It was amazing what a handjob could do to clear the mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://waterlilyrose.tumblr.com/


End file.
